


Afternoon Delight

by Kitacular



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Anal Plug, Blindfolds, Bondage, But like... romantic objectification, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Gags, M/M, Master/Slave, Objectification, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 18:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitacular/pseuds/Kitacular
Summary: Aramis enjoys an unusually cruel afternoon with his Porthos





	Afternoon Delight

**Author's Note:**

> So... There was too much Portamis porn in The Higher You Rise that it distracted from the very very small amount of plot that I had actually put in it. I had to cut a bit out. Have some Portamis kink.

Porthos sat silently as Athos left, slightly light headed at the way Athos' eyes had raked over him where he sat, topless, on the living room floor in just his underwear.

“Dios. I'm so proud of you, mi vida,” Aramis breathed, sinking to his knees and sitting on his heels.

He grasped Porthos' face in both of his hands and kissed him fiercely. It was all Porthos could do to hang on for the ride. There was no opportunity to kiss him back and he simply let his mouth fall slack as Aramis dominated the kiss entirely. He was panting when Aramis finally pulled away to stare at him, black eyes alive with some undefined tangle of pride, triumph and a hint of malice.

“I know you hate being shown off like that but you did so well,” Aramis said breathlessly. “You sat there, silent and obedient. You and I both knew the peg is there, deep inside you, pulling on your muscles, moulding you to my fingers, keeping you open, stretched, wide, ready for me. Your beautiful cock is all bound up for me, as unimportant as your own desire is, waiting for me to release it, hoping I will choose to do so.” He paused to give Porthos another searing, brutally fast kiss before stopping just as suddenly. “Yet you stayed there. Let me toy with you in front of another. Proved you're mine. Let Athos see it. See the pain you endure for me. You're so fucking mine.”

Porthos whimpered at the words, nodding his agreement as his insides turned to liquid.

This ferocity wasn't completely out of character but it was rare. Aramis was normally very cool, very calm. He planned each step, manipulated Porthos' emotions with a lot of planning and gently nudging him where he wanted him. This was just raw.

Aramis raised himself up higher on his knees so he was looking down at the seated Porthos. He used the grip he still had on either side of Porthos' face to tilt his head back.

“Now tell me the truth... Were you still trying to get hard while Athos was here?” he asked, eyes glittering in the candlelight.

Porthos nodded, cheeks flaming back into life with the admission.

A hand suddenly fell from his face and pressed against the bound genitals through the linen. Fingers wrapped tightly around the bulge and squeezed. Porthos' entire body shuddered from the pain. As soon as Aramis let go, though, another throb of arousal went through him.

“Oh, mi vida,” Aramis purred. “I think you like the pain. Even **that pain**.”

More pain flowed through his body as Aramis squeezed again to make his point and Porthos nodded desperately, his hands fluttering at his sides.

“Hands and knees,” Aramis instructed, abruptly letting go of Porthos.

It took a moment of effort to get all of his limbs to co-operate but Porthos managed it, trembling as he waited.

“Do you want the gag?” Aramis asked, skilled hands beneath Porthos' body undoing the laces on his last remaining garment.

Porthos began to shake his head until a sudden blast of desire hit him. He wanted this. He loved this. He loved Aramis making him totally at his mercy. Nodding his head slowly, Porthos opened his mouth.

His cock was more painful than ever as Aramis inserted the gag, packing the cloth in tight to muffle even the slightest moan of protest. The cloth between his lips was pulled tighter than normal, Aramis' cruelty coming to the forefront today. It stretched and distended Porthos' mouth and he moaned into the wad of cloth when Aramis gave him another deep kiss, a kiss he was utterly unable to return. The cloth continued around twice more, this time laying flat to leave a neat panel over his mouth.

“Now you can scream as much you like,” Aramis said quickly, pressing a quick kiss to the place Porthos' mouth used to be.

Porthos groaned helplessly, simultaneously regretting and rejoicing in his decision. He shivered slightly as his underwear was pulled down and finally his plugged hole was visible to his Master.

“So purple,” Aramis murmured and Porthos was shocked to feel his fingers not at the wood between his buttocks but at his stretched and painful testicles. “You like it when I'm cruel,” Aramis observed.

Porthos began to nod his agreement but was stopped short when one of Aramis' fingers flicked against the tender skin.

“Chest to the floor,” Aramis said quietly and Porthos complied, laying his head and chest on the rug. This position was not unfamiliar and he folded his arms comfortably on the rug above his head. Gentle hands pulled his hips back until he was nearly sitting on his heels.

There was a few minutes of silence until Aramis began to stroke his bulging and bound cock, trying desperately to thicken against the painful strips of leather.

“Looks painful,” Aramis remarked. “Looks like it's not even yours.”

Porthos groaned into his gag, no sound making it out. The inevitable knowledge that even his protests didn't matter made butterflies come alive in his stomach, arousal making him light headed.

There was a strange fiddling sensation and then a tugging and Porthos realised two new bits of twine had been attached to his testicles and Aramis was tugging painfully on them until he could attach them to Porthos' toes.

Once completed, the pressure on his genitals was even worse, the added sensation of them being pulled down, the opposite direction to where they wanted to go making him weak. A hand passed over his buttocks, down his thigh and Porthos groaned deeply, realising now what Aramis had done.

Porthos' testicles were now pulled back so they stuck out between his thighs. The mental image of his swollen and sensitive testicles being so vulnerable made him grateful Aramis had instructed him to the floor as his entire body was shaking with adrenaline.

Aramis began to lightly tap them, sending shock waves of arousal through Porthos' body but he had an increasing sense of dread it was not going to remain pleasurable like this.

A sudden painful squeeze to them made Porthos shout out in shock, only a small mewling noise making itself heard.

“Now for the fun part,” Aramis said silkily.

Porthos was utterly unable to defend himself as short, sharp smacks of Aramis' palm landed on his protruding testicles. The pain was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was like being punched in the groin over and over, a deep resounding pain in his lower abdomen that faded only to be replaced by another slap.

Aramis landed another, harder blow and Porthos reared up but the twine on his toes gave a sharp yank and he fell back to the floor, whimpering in pain as Aramis laughed loudly.

It went on and on, the same rhythm, increasing in intensity until Porthos felt he was going to be sick. His fingers were clenched in the rug and his entire body was rocking with the blows, trying valiantly to get away from the pain, his simple twine bondage making that impossible.

Tears were falling freely from Porthos' eyes when the barrage of blows stopped. He crouched there, shaking as Aramis' fingers stroked the tender flesh.

“Dios,” Aramis breathed.

Porthos choked back a sob as Aramis cupped his testicles, weighing the bruised flesh in his hands.

“You're still trying to get hard,” Aramis whispered.

Again, Porthos had that delicious prickly sensation when realised the truth in Aramis' words. As the blinding pain in his testicles faded, he realised the sharp restricted pain in his cock was worse than ever and it gave another throb as Aramis' words echoed his own dark thought.

“It knows its Master,” Aramis said softly. “Through the pain and the bondage... It knows it belongs to me.”

Porthos sobbed into his gag and nodded desperately against the rug, his fingers still gripping the threads for dear life.

When Aramis knee walked around to Porthos' head, he didn't have the strength to look up but felt a wave of vulnerability when he realised Aramis was still dressed, simply undoing his breeches and braies to pull his hard length out from between the folds of fabric.

Again, the mental image flashed through Porthos' head of him kneeling, hunched on the rug naked with his underwear around his knees, his face wrapped into a mask, his cock bound and bulging through the straps, his testicles beaten and bruised, poking obscenely out between his legs, tears streaming down his face to meet the cloth, his buttocks spread by that damn wooden plug, keeping his hole stretched open, muscles fluttering uselessly around it and through it all, being unwittingly forced into trying to have an erection that was out of his power. Coupled with the image of Aramis, strong and powerful, fully dressed, only choosing to get his cock out while he towers over the crouched form of his property... It made Porthos shudder with longing.

A strong hand gripped his hair and pressed his gagged face against Aramis' weeping length. More of the beloved captive feeling swept through Porthos as he was helpless, just feeling Aramis rub his cock all over his face, poking at the gag, rubbing against his check, smearing fluid across his forehead.

He moaned into the gag when Aramis let go, his head falling back to the soft rug. This moan was pure want. The panel of cloth just under his nose smelled of Aramis, smelled of his cock. That heady scent Porthos loved. He moaned again, pure joy when finally, finally Aramis' fingers touched the wooden base of the toy filling and spreading him.

Porthos groaned in pain when Aramis tugged on it repeatedly, making the already aching muscles flex and move with it. A small amount of oil was dribbled onto the two fingers wide shaft and it was finally, mercifully removed.

That mercy was short lived, though, when Aramis' hands spread his cheeks and Porthos could feel the air passing over his still open entrance.

“So open,” Aramis breathed, echoing Porthos' thought.

There was a moan of humiliation when Aramis slid his length into Porthos with absolutely no resistance. More than that, though, it was of rightness. This was why it was there.

Aramis' position meant he was stabbing almost directly down into Porthos, forcing himself deeper than usual and it made Porthos want to cry again. His Master was claiming him. While it was a loving act, it was a predatory one. He was property, being claimed again, being possessed.

After a few seconds, however, Aramis gave a shaky order, his voice betraying how close he was to his own climax.

“Up. Hands,” he demanded.

Porthos blinked in confusion a couple of times and then raised himself on shaky arms, his hips having to stay pressed to his legs due to his ingenious and still painful bondage.

Aramis didn't seem to care about it, though. He shifted his weight back and began to pull Porthos' hips back with each violent thrust forwards. Porthos yelled into the gag on the first few thrusts and then began to whimper constantly, his sounds going unheard through the bondage he'd asked for.

The pain was unbelievable. Each time Aramis thrust forwards, he slammed Porthos' hips backwards, his painful, bruised balls being crushed again and again against Aramis' thighs. When he withdrew, he was pushing Porthos forwards for leverage but this tugged painfully on the twine, pulling his sack out and away again.

When Aramis came, he folded over Porthos, forcing him back to the floor and bit painfully into his shoulder. He ground his hips agonisingly against not only Porthos' bruised and aching entrance but against the swollen flesh of his testicles, crushed painfully between their bodies.

He lay there, hunched beneath his Master's body, his entire pelvic region throbbing in pain, for what seemed like an age. Finally the teeth released his shoulder and Aramis began to pant in his ear.

“Mi vida,” he gasped. “Okay?”

Porthos nodded eagerly. He was better than okay. That had been some of the best sex they'd ever had.

Aramis laughed softly in his ear and slowly withdrew from Porthos' body, chuckling as Porthos' whine was audible even through his layers of gag.

“Sore?” he asked. More emphatic nodding. “Good,” Aramis answered and, without warning, he slid the wooden peg back into Porthos' bruised and leaking entrance.

A shudder ran through Porthos' body.

“I want you to keep that in until morning. I like the idea of you filled with my seed,” Aramis said quietly, tracing the hot abraded flesh beside the smooth unyielding wood.

Porthos shuddered again and Aramis' fingers appeared beneath his body, stroking the hot, bulging flesh of his trapped cock.

“You do, too,” Aramis said. It wasn't a question.

Porthos gasped with gratitude when the twine holding his testicles back was cut, immediately releasing the tension. All his instincts told him to cup them but he hadn't been given permission to move so he remained still.

Instead it was Aramis' hand that moved between his legs, gently rolling them in his hand, thumb stroking the pained flesh.

“You did so well,” Aramis hummed and Porthos sagged in relief. He still needed the praise. “Your body responds so well to me and yet you remained in position almost entirely. I'm so proud of you.”

Porthos remained where he was, breathing hard through his nose, as Aramis manipulated his genitals but his heart sank when Aramis let go, leaving the three strips in place. It appeared he was only removing the additional twine. His suspicions were confirmed when it was removed from his toes as well.

A dark chuckle sounded and it seemed to run up Porthos' spine.

“Oh no, mi vida. They're staying on for a while, yet,” Aramis chided, finger running around the bulging painful head of Porthos' cock making him jerk away from the painful touch.

He was gently encouraged to lift each knee and his underwear was taken away finally. Slowly, Aramis also unwound the gag, fingers far more gentle than when it was put on.

“Thank you for submitting to the gag,” Aramis said quietly as he removed the cloth wadded up in Porthos' mouth. “I knew you weren't going to be able to keep quiet but I didn't want to put it back on if you weren't on board.”

Porthos wetted his mouth and frowned in confusion.

“Our landlord is home,” he reminded Porthos. “My choice was either force you to take the gag twice in one day or do something different than I wanted. Your beautiful, graceful submission meant I needn't make such a difficult choice.”

Porthos' eyes filled a bit with tears and he leaned his head forwards for a kiss. A kiss Aramis granted sweetly and gently, his thumb tracing the corner of Porthos' mouth where the unusually tight cloth had left a red mark.

It wasn't unusual for Porthos to need a while to speak again after being gagged so he was grateful when Aramis leaned away, tucking himself back into his clothes and stood.

“Bed. You can stand or crawl, whichever you wish,” Aramis said, not waiting for an answer.

Porthos' thighs were shaking a little from the position and he chose to crawl behind his Master, shivering a little as his cock hung heavy and painful between his legs, swaying a little with the motion.

Aramis changed direction to the kitchen but Porthos obediently made his way slowly to their bedroom, pausing just inside the door in his designated spot, raising himself up to his knees in Aramis' required position.

“You look amazing,” Aramis said when he joined him. Fingers stroked across his face and Porthos leaned into it. “You know you've been on the floor since we got home?”

Porthos blinked in surprise and then gave Aramis a tentative smile.

“I know,” Aramis said, nodding. “And silent but for the few sentences waiting for Athos.”

Porthos licked his lips and nodded. The realisation made him feel incredibly owned... Like Aramis' arm's reach rule he'd put in place occasionally over the years. There was something... naked about this, though. He wasn't granted speech or to walk or the normal range of a free man.

“Do you like it?” Aramis asked as he sat on the bed, no judgement in his tone.

Porthos nodded slowly.

“I've always been hesitant to keep you too confined,” Aramis said carefully. “I don't want it to be too hard for you to come out of it, as it were, when we're on duty.”

Porthos listened in silence, understanding the hesitancy.

“The next few days, however, we're on guard duty at the palace. Since the King is away, we'll be glorified doormen.”

Porthos nodded, excitement brewing in his stomach, guessing where this was going.

“Would you like this to continue a little more? The silence and the restriction?”

Porthos nodded emphatically, his heart swelling with the opportunity to just belong, nothing else.

“You will speak freely outside of this house,” Aramis said briskly. “You'll tell me if you're becoming too unfocused and I will tell you if the same is true of me. When you wear your sword, you're free to move about as normal so I don't wish to see any dereliction of duty. Nor will I permit you to follow me unnecessarily. I own a Musketeer, remember,” he said, sternly.

Porthos nodded in understanding.

“As for when we're home,” Aramis continued, slowly. “No speech, no standing, no furniture unless instructed. No tidying and...” he hesitated. “I don't want you asking me for things, either.”

Porthos frowned slightly.

“I will decide when you eat, when you drink, when you pass water. I will decide when to kiss you, when to talk to you, when I want to touch you. Do you understand?”

Porthos swallowed nervously and didn't nod his head.

“Good boy,” Aramis said, smiling softly. “What I mean is that I want this to be a lesson in your status as my property. This means it isn't about you being petted or simply needing to ask permission to do things. This is a lesson in that.. While we're doing this, you're mine to pick up and put down as I wish.”

Porthos swallowed again before nodding slowly, heat spreading across his chest as he realised how much the idea of being Aramis' object turned him on.

The ownership and control was meaningful and heartfelt but this was more objectifying. He felt a flush of embarrassment at needing to pass water and having to wait for Aramis to decide he needed it. It was arousing enough when he had to ask for permission but even that would be denied this time.

“Do you have any questions?” Aramis asked.

Porthos opened his mouth but then closed it again. His only question had been how long this would go on for but in the spirit of surrender, he chose not to ask, preferring to simply immerse himself in the experience.

Aramis studied him for several long minutes, eyes raking over his flesh, still bearing the indents of rope, lingering on the angry purple flesh of his engorged but still folded penis. He seemed to reach some inner conclusion because he nodded to himself before standing and leaving the room again.

Porthos waited where he was, his skin tingling with this shift. This was new, exciting, arousing. For years they'd settled into an easy routine but never once lost that core of authority. This was the opposite... This was making that authority and ownership everything while the rest had to fall away. The romance, the playfulness... Even their friendship, almost.

He was unresistant when Aramis returned with bandages and very brusquely began to bind his hands into fists. They were little more than stumps when Aramis was done. He tried to catch Aramis' eye but didn't manage it. A piece of cloth was again wrapped around his mouth, this time flat against it. It was then wrapped around his eyes several times as well, binding his entire face, leaving just his nose free. The knot was small and neat, tied at the base of his neck.

“Bed. Normal position,” Aramis instructed quietly.

Porthos complied, awkwardly moving, blind and without the use of his hands. He lay, slightly uncertainly and jumped slightly when Aramis knelt on the bed and tied a loop of rope around each ankle. A small amount of movement told him his ankles were now tied to the bed, tethering him like an animal.

He lay, bound, blind and mute on the bed, listening to Aramis get undressed. This hadn't been what he'd expected. He'd expected a more emotional experience based on his choice to remain where instructed, not this enforced helplessness. Without his vision to distract him, he could not deny the pure eroticism. He flexed his useless hands inside their bondage for a few seconds and then froze when, once again, Aramis began to rub his hardened cock against Porthos' face. He smeared the fluid under Porthos' nose and then withdrew.

His body gave a small start of surprise as he was rolled onto his stomach and he found frustration at his inability to assist with his useless fists. The plug was quickly removed and Aramis drove into him with no fanfare or ceremony.

Having spent so recently, Aramis used long, deep, strokes. Porthos felt himself surrender entirely, turning to jelly under Aramis' leisurely use of his body. He didn't speak to Porthos or touch Porthos other than to spread his buttocks apart occasionally to watch his cock drive into Porthos' pained entrance.

That peg had it aching since they'd returned home early afternoon. That had to be nearly twelve hours now. This was the second time Aramis had taken him and neither time gently. His muscles didn't feel like they were resisting at all, the fluid from Aramis' earlier release making a mortifying squish noise every so often.

He felt more like an object than he ever thought he would.

Aramis had fucked him brutally many many times before. He'd fucked him until he felt like property before but he'd always been human property before. This dispassionate sex was making Porthos' bound cock throb with arousal in a new way. This didn't feel like a desperate need for his own release, though he was certain his body wanted that. This just felt like a silent acknowledgement that what Aramis was doing was his right, to his property, to his object. These painful throbs of arousal were acceptance and appreciation of the eroticism more than a demand for reciprocation.

Porthos' useless stumps lay passively at his sides while his body was rocked back and forth by Aramis' increasingly brutal thrusts. The hands spreading his buttocks had begun to dig cruelly into the flesh as Aramis chased his own orgasm, using the wet, unresistant body beneath him to get off. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from groaning in pain as again, Aramis reached his climax grinding his hips into Porthos' backside, pressing himself painfully deep.

The plug was reinserted immediately after Aramis withdrew and the knowledge that he was now holding two of his Master's loads inside him made Porthos breathless with denied arousal again. This constant waving between serene acceptance and raging arousal was making him dizzy.

He was firmly on the raging arousal side when, instead of using one of the cloths on the headboard to clean himself off, Aramis used Porthos' face, the cloth around his eyes and mouth soaking up the mixed fluids of two releases.

Aramis dropped heavily to his side and curled into Porthos' arms, wrapping the arms around him in their customary position stroking his fingers over what used to be Porthos' broad hands.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts and requests always welcome at kitacularao3 at gmaildotcom :)


End file.
